


The Fleeting Year

by azephirin



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: College, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harvard, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The pleasure of the fleeting year.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fleeting Year

**Author's Note:**

> To the extent that any of these characters are real people, this story depicts them as they are fictitiously portrayed in Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher's ~~RPF 'verse~~ movie _The Social Network_. Title, summary, and cut text from [Sonnet 97](http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19315) by William Shakespeare. Sorry, Bill.

At one o'clock in the morning on January 21, Mark is in bed for absolutely no reason at all. He's very tired. That must be it. The train ride was quite long, five hours, and he had to transfer at Penn. It requires a great deal of energy, and now Mark needs to sleep. Chris is asleep, and Dustin isn't back yet, and Mark thought that Eduardo was coming back early but he isn't here yet even though he said he would be, and Mark needs to sleep. Otherwise he will not be able to get anything done tomorrow, and he is sure that he has many things he needs to do.

It's snowing lightly, and Mark's room is a little bit cold. He always keeps the window cracked when he's by himself—otherwise it gets stuffy—but this temperature would be too chilly for Eduardo if he were here. But he's not, and Mark can sleep with the room as cold as he wants it. He tucks the comforter securely around himself and turns over.

He's drifting off when the door opens. "Wardo?" Mark mumbles, untangling his head from the sheets, because the options are pretty much either Eduardo or a psycho axe murderer.

"Hey. God, it's freezing in here. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

It's just the right temperature that it should be, but Mark says, "Close the window if you want," and Eduardo does. Mark looks blearily at the green numbers on his alarm clock. "Why are you just getting in at four a.m.? Was your flight delayed?"

"No. I drove."

Mark wakes up a little more. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I got a car! Mãe got a new one, so I inherited her old one. I picked Dustin up in Ocala and we drove together."

Mark tries to remember how long it took his family to drive to Disney World that time, and Disney World isn't nearly as far down as Miami. "How long did it take?"

"About a day and a half, with stops. I'm so tired, man, move over."

Mark does, and Eduardo strips off his clothes efficiently (it's hard to see in the dark, but it looks as though he's dressed like a normal person, jeans and a fleece rather than a suit and tie and vest and just about everything except a damn corset) and crawls into bed. It is, as they discovered last semester and as usual, too small for both of them, but Mark just moves over so that Eduardo can have some room. They make the necessary adjustments, shifting around and jabbing the occasional accidental elbow until Eduardo's arm is wrapped around him and Mark's nose is buried in Eduardo's shoulder. Just because that's where it happened to end up. Even though he'd been on a road trip for thirty-six hours, Eduardo still smells good, like laundry detergent and some kind of cologne. Mark hasn't smelled that for a month, since they left after finals, and suddenly Eduardo's curling closer and kissing his eyelids and his forehead and murmuring, "I missed you too." Eduardo is such a sap.

Mark looks up, and they kiss for real, mouth on mouth and tongue to tongue. Eduardo hasn't brushed his teeth but he doesn't taste bad, and Mark kisses him deeply and hard; Eduardo gasps a little and Mark realizes that his leg is somehow over Eduardo's hip. Their hips rock together, and Mark could do this forever as long as Eduardo keeps making those pleading little noises every time. "Mark— Mark— oh fuck."

Mark says his name, just a breathed-out _Wardo_ , and Eduardo pushes up against him even more urgently. They're both hard and they're not wearing much, just undershirts and boxers, and it would be really easy to reach down and touch Eduardo right now if he wanted to. Which, speaking of. Mark rubs his palm over the outline of Eduardo's cock, and Eduardo moans.

Eduardo shoves their boxers down, and Mark thinks it's stupid to be wearing shirts but not underwear, so he runs his hands up Eduardo's chest and takes the shirt off him. Eduardo does the same thing to Mark and then they're naked together, hot and aroused under the covers and in the small bed. Mark considers sucking him, but that's when Eduardo flips them over and pins Mark down under him, and this time the groan is Mark's because those are their dicks, right up against each other and getting slick with precome, and he winds his legs around Eduardo's thighs to get the angle right. Oh, and it's right, everything where it needs to be, and Eduardo is letting out soft cries that are better than anything Mark's ever heard. Eduardo comes first in little whimpery pulses, gripping Mark's wrists tight, and that does it—Mark is done. His back and neck arch, and he says, "Wardo!" in a breathless, desperate voice that doesn't sound like himself. The margin between their bodies is already slippery and heated from Eduardo's come, and it feels so good that Mark can't stop gasping. He lies there panting until the stickiness gets to be too much, and they wipe off with somebody's shirt. Mark hopes it's not his.

They rearrange themselves and end up with Eduardo on his back and Mark about halfway on top of him. Eduardo's bony but it feels good.

"So did you enjoy your epic road trip with Dustin?" Mark asks. Dustin would be so annoying on a road trip; it would be like traveling with a five-year-old.

Eduardo laughs even though Mark only asked a factual question and didn't say anything funny. He settles an arm across Mark's back. "Yes, but don't worry—I'll take you next time."

"I don't want to go to Florida," Mark says.

"Not even to visit me?"

"Well, maybe."

Eduardo laughs again. He thinks everything is funny. "You can come home with me for spring break. Or we can go somewhere else."

"Where?"

Eduardo turns his head and kisses Mark again. It's slow and peaceful, like a good-night kiss. "Anywhere. Anywhere that doesn't involve crossing an ocean, anyway. Maybe somewhere we've never been before."

"But you've been everywhere."

"No. I haven't been to Montreal, or Chicago, or even Cape Cod."

"We could go to Montreal," Mark says. He manages to get an arm around Eduardo so that they're lying as close as possible. "I took some French in high school. Enough to get by."

"Montreal, then," Eduardo says, and kisses Mark's cheek. "Good night, _querido_."

Mark has a feeling Eduardo just called him something really embarrassing in Portuguese. But he just says, "Good night," and kisses Eduardo again so that they have an actual good-night kiss.

He's asleep in no time.


End file.
